Song Stories
by dcent
Summary: Collection of short stories based on songs.
1. Halloween

**Halloween - Meg & Dia**

* * *

You were the first person I ever lost, and the last person I ever wanted to lose.

It was a car accident they said. I don't remember anything after that. I think I might have blacked out.

When I came to, I remember crying. A lot. I kept screaming, "No. No. No. No. Not Santana. Not my Santana. Not my baby." I remember rocking back and forth, people coming up to me trying to comfort me.

But none of them could. Only you could.

I couldn't breathe. It felt like a boulder was sitting on my chest and someone was closing their hands around my throat.

It couldn't be you, I kept telling myself. I had just seen you. I told you to drive safe, to be careful of trick-or-treaters. I handed you your keys.

It couldn't be you.

But it was. It was you, San.

* * *

After you died, people kept coming over, giving me casseroles, opening their arms for hugs. I never hugged anyone back. I just kind of stood there while they wrapped their arms around me.

Everyone is so careful around me, so silent and scared that what they say might break me.

But don't they know that I'm already broken?

Don't they know that all the careful silences in the world can't replace your smile, your silly grin that was only reserved for me, the one I fell in love with?

When they hugged me, I couldn't feel anything. I was just empty.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much, San.

I swear that when you died, I died with you. The part of me that could ever be happy was gone because the only thing that could ever make me happy was gone.

You were gone.

* * *

I took down all of our pictures.

Twelve years, baby.

That's how long we've been together. How long we _were_ together. High school sweethearts.

You were the only person I loved and could ever love.

I've lost faith, San, but who could blame me? Those twelve years, seemed like a blink of an eye. Some people were surprised that we had been together for that long. But I could be with you for another one hundred and twelve years and it still wouldn't be enough.

I cried when I took down the picture from the night you died. We were in our Halloween costumes. I was SuperGirl and you were Lois Lane. You looked so cute in your glasses. When I took it down, I remembered vividly the way I felt that night, when I heard about your accident. When I heard that you died.

I broke down and I stopped taking things down for a while.

When I managed to stop sobbing, the next thing I took down was my mirror. Weird, isn't it, baby? But I can't stand to look at myself.

If only I had told you I loved you instead of just saying, "Here's your keys." That was the last thing I told you. I should have told you I loved you. I should have told you how I'm only myself when I'm with you.

But I can't.

And I don't know what hurts more, knowing I didn't say it or knowing that I'll never be able to tell you that again.

* * *

I put away everything that reminds me of you.

That copy of Lolita you gave me, the one you kissed on the inside page then covered with clear tape so your lipstick wouldn't smudge and your kiss would be there forever. You wrote a quote from the book under it – "It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight."

And it was, San. It was.

I took down that poster you gave me. The plain white one with "I love you" in block letters. You gave that to me Valentine's Day our senior year.

It was so simple, just like our love. I think that's why you chose it, because even though so many things around us were so complex and difficult for me to understand, I was never confused about our love.

Looking through my stuff, I even hid away that fortune you gave me from your fortune cookie on our first date.

"You will have good luck in love."

I remember the way you smiled when you gave it to me, the faint pink of blush creeping into your cheeks.

That was the only fortune I've ever seen come true.

But I guess good luck always runs out eventually.

* * *

It's been a while since you died, but every day still feels like that first day.

People keep telling me, "Time will heal and time will mend," but I know that's not true.

The pain hurts just as bad as it did the day that you died.

It might even hurt more.

People tell me, "It's time to move on," and they give me light pat on the back, stealing you away from me by telling me to get a hobby to help me move on.

But I can't move on. I don't want to move on. I don't care to. I'm done, San. There's nothing for me to move on to.

But they don't understand that, you know?

They don't understand that you weren't just my other half, you were my whole life.

That I loved you from the moment I met you, from the moment I saw you.

I swear, baby, we were born holding hands.

* * *

Every year, on the anniversary of your death, people come by with flowers and cards. "My condolences," most of the cards say.

I swear, I must have gotten every single sympathy card out there.

But I take the cards and the flowers and I smile.

It's never real, you know. You were the only one who could make me smile for real, the only one who deserved it.

So I flash them a fake smile, and you know what, babe? I'd smile all they wanted if they just gave me what I wanted, if they just gave me you.

But it's okay. You know why?

Because I know, I'll be with you someday.


	2. Youth

**Youth - Daughter**

* * *

It's not the same without you. I stare at the spot on my bed where you used to sleep, the shape of your body still faintly visible in my sheets.

It's like there's a permanent shadow over it, like a darkness has settled on everything, on the world, on my life, on _me_.

And it's hard to think of anything. Like, my mind is empty, void of everything except for you.

But I don't think of us, of the good times.

I think of the beginning, when I first saw you, your blonde hair like the sun and your blue eyes sparkling like the summer waves.

And I think of the end, mascara tears running down my face, black to match the dress I wore for you.

_I will always love you the most_.

There's no point in reminiscing on the things in the middle. It's the beginning and the end that matter, how we started and how we finished.

It's funny how opposite those two were, isn't it?

Like night and day. Like sun and rain. Like me and you.

And I envy everyone who is still breathing. They're the lucky ones.

My lungs have been corrupted by you, by the smell of your hair, the scent of your skin.

My lungs have been damaged by you, undergoing heaving and desperate gasps for air the day that I lost you.

And every day after that.

I take a shot to drown out the memories of you, the fiery liquid burning my insides. I fumble with a pen, scribbling your name on a piece of paper.

Even in the chaos of my writing, your name still looks so beautiful.

I add your name to the pile of lovers gone wrong, but I know that your name will be the last one I add, that your name will stay at the top of my list forever, that the sound of your name will stay haunting me and hurting me for longer than I can bear.

We were reckless, and we were young. But we had a future, a vision of our life together, with more smiles than tears. If only we could have really seen the truth, could have really seen the future, that one of us would die before we got there.

And I'm telling you, I'm jealous of everyone who can still feel pain, who can still bleed, because all of my feelings – like you – are dead and they are gone.

Another shot to forget you, causing me the only pain I can feel now, the burn of my insides being set on fire.

I collect memories like they're pictures threatening to be destroyed by the flood of sadness that washes over our home, the flood you caused.

But I've failed and I've lost it all, and now I'm just a shadow of who I used to be, nothing more than a grey face, a lifeless profile that no one remembers and everyone forgets.

And my eyes are wet from the last words you said to me, playing like a broken record over and over and over in my mind.

That was the day you left me, the day you stole me, the day you broke me.

And to everyone in love, you're the lucky ones.

Because most of us are still bitter over someone.

We set fire to our insides for fun, desperately trying to distract our hearts from ever missing them.

_But I'm forever missing you._


	3. Kiss Me

**Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer**

* * *

"Let's go on an adventure," I said.

"Where?" you asked, your brown eyes full of hesitant excitement.

"Anywhere. Nowhere. Everywhere."

"I'll get the map."

You ran to your dad's study and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It looked old with brown edges, but I know you and your dad made it to look like that.

"A map of all of our favorite places," you told me.

You held my hand as we walked through the woods, quiet and content, the warm sun streaming between the trees. We came to an open field, the grass coming up to our knees.

You looked up at me, and hand in hand, we ran to the middle if the field, the tall grass tickling our legs. You hugged me close, your hands grabbing fistfuls of the fabric of my shirt, like you were scared I would disappear.

The wind played with your dark hair, picking it up and trying to carry it away, but it was only strong enough to pick up your scent and surround me with it.

"Kiss me," I whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. And you did.

We walked home, and it was dark by the time we got back. We sat on the porch, looking up at the stars. I cuddled closer to you. This time it was me clinging to you.

"I don't like the dark," I quietly confessed.

You leaned in closely, and I expected to hear words of comfort. Instead, I felt your lips on mine.

"Don't be scared," you whispered.

You got up and turned on the little icicle lights that had been up since Christmas. It was like you had taken a handful of stars and brought them down to surround us.

You led me to the middle of the porch, the moonlight reflecting off of your hair. You danced with me, laying your head on my shoulder and lifting up your land, directing an imaginary orchestra, humming softly while we swayed back and forth.

Even the fireflies seemed to be dancing. You lifted up your head, the silver moon making your eyes sparkle, and you kissed me.

I woke up the next morning with you by my side, You inched closer to me, your mouth tickling my ear.

"Let's go on an adventure," you whispered.

You pulled out a blank sheet of paper. At the top you wrote, "A Map of Our Favorite Places," but this one was for me and you. _Ours._

I wore the blue dress you loved. You said it made my eyes look bluer. You wore the shoes you bought on our first date, your dark hair and eyes brought out the bright color in your flowered hat.

We walked to your tree house, the one you hadn't been in since you were a little girl. It was broken down, years of weather clearly taking its toll.

You ran like a child to the hanging tire, smiling brightly and gesturing for me to do the same. I smiled at your excitement and agreed.

I sat on the tire as you swung me back and forth slowly, missing me as I left and kissing me every time I found my way back to you.


End file.
